


Smells Like Home

by ibelieveinturtles



Series: Donuts in My Bra and Other Stories [19]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 150 followers prompts, Alternative Universe - Fantasy, Alternative Universe - Werewolves, Cheese Rolling, F/M, Fic Giveaway, M/M, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic, Sheep, Tumblr Prompts, Werewolves, WinterShieldShock - Freeform, sheepdogs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-18 02:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15475404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/pseuds/ibelieveinturtles
Summary: Steve and Bucky are werewolves fleeing the aftermath of civil war and an oppressive regime. When they stop at a tavern for the night, Steve smells something that sparks his curiosity.





	1. Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Queenspuppet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenspuppet/gifts).



> This was written for my 150 follower giveaway on Tumblr for ragwitch, who prompted 'sheep'.
> 
> sorry this took so long - this is like, version three of this prompt. It's been so long since I posted anything, let alone anything new. It's taken me half the afternoon to do this, partly because of panic-editing and partly cos my mum phoned and we had to have a nice long chat. Chapter two should be up in a couple of days, and I'm contemplating an epilogue as well. We'll see.
> 
> Love to everyone, hope you like my new offering!

Smells Like Home

* * *

* * *

 

* * *

 

Darcy was wiping down the bar of the Sheep In Wolf's Clothing Tavern when the door opened, letting in a gust of cold wind and an unseasonably early flurry of snow.

The two men who followed the cold air through the door were tall, broad, and carried themselves with an air of keen awareness. They were dressed warmly in trousers, tunics, and cloaks, with bows and quivers slung across their backs and swords hanging from the belts slung around their hips. Each of them carried a pack. The taller of the two had short fair hair and a scruffy beard, while his companion sported long dark hair and a mere three or four days worth of stubble.

A hush fell over the room as the few remaining patrons paused in their conversations to look at the newcomers, and then the noise came back louder as the locals resumed their chatter, now with the added topic of Interesting Strangers. (Not that strangers were a rare occurrence in these parts, especially with the Harvest Festival being held the next day but they weren't usually so heavily armed.)

Darcy had never seen anyone that looked quite like them before, but in spite of that there was still something vaguely familiar about them.

She watched curiously, sneaking glances at them as she cleared the last empty glasses from the counter, noting how they both scanned the room thoroughly as they stepped into the room. The other patrons currently consisted of a group of several dwarfs, two trolls, one vampire, and half a dozen humans. The two men scowled at the vampire but ignored everyone else.

They had to walk right past the bar on their way to an empty table in the furthest corner of the tavern, the air stirring behind them as they passed, and she caught a whiff of the unpleasant odour of old, stale sweat and unwashed clothes, along with the slightly more pleasant ones of smoke, wool, leather, and...there was another scent, lurking underneath all the others. A sharp, wild scent that she instinctively knew she’d smelt before but couldn't quite place.

She unconsciously turned after them, taking another, deeper breath to try and catch another trace of the tantalising smell but there was nothing.

The fair-headed man looked behind him and caught her eye for a moment, staring at her with an unfathomable expression before looking away sharply.

With a shake of her head, she put the last of the glasses on a tray, and took it to the door that led to the kitchen, where the other barmaid was doing the washing up. Natasha was a vampire who'd arrived about a year ago, new to the black ribbon and looking for a new life. She also took on the role of security when needed.

“Hey, Nat. I got some more dishes for you.” She glanced over her shoulder at the two strangers, as they both slid into the seat against the wall, and directed her next comment to the burly man kneading dough for the mornings bread.

“We just got two new customers walk in and they look hungry and tired. We got any of that stew left?”

Barwolf Shepherd, the Tavern’s owner, looked up from the bench and nodded. “Aye, there's half a pot still, and a couple of loaves of bread. Did you want me to put some aside to take home?”

Darcy shrugged. “Feed the paying customers first, Uncle Wolf. I'll take whatever's left.”

She went to go back to the bar, caught sight of the men again, paused, and turned back to Wolf. “Is Oscar here yet?” she asked. Her brothers often took turns to escort her home during the colder months, and tonight was her eldest brothers turn.

Wolf raised an eyebrow. “He's out back with Shadow. You expecting trouble?”

She chewed on her lip as she thought about the scent that she couldn't quite place. “Maybe? I'm not sure yet.”

Wolf waited patiently as she wondered if it was worth mentioning or not.

“What's wrong, Darcy?” Natasha asked in her slightly accented voice, never one for beating around the bush.

“They smell…odd,” Darcy admitted. “It's familiar - I know I've smelled it before but I can't quite place it.”

Nat pulled her hands out of the sink, wiping them on her apron as she took the three steps to the door and peered through.

“Oh,” she said flatly, but Darcy thought she could detect a note of worry in the vampire’s usually confident voice.

“What?” Darcy couldn't stop the word from escaping.

“I know one of them.” Nat pulled away from the door to give Darcy an enigmatic look. “He’s a werewolf.” She glanced towards the taproom again. “The other one...” she tipped her head to one side for a moment and took a deep breath, “...the other one smells different, but he’s also a werewolf. Probably from a different family or area though.”

“ **What**?” Darcy couldn't help the startled exclamation as she turned wide eyes on Natasha. She didn't ask if Nat was sure though. A vampire’s nose was extremely reliable. “Oh.”

Natasha tilted her head and regarded Darcy with her trademark cool gaze. “Have you met werewolves before?” she asked.

“Once,” Darcy told her, “but I was very small and I don’t really remember it.” She chewed on her bottom lip as she glanced out the door to where the two men - werewolves - had chosen a table near the fireplace but well away from everyone else. “No wonder I couldn't place the smell,” she murmured, more to herself than to Nat.

“Would you like me to serve them?” Nat asked gently.

Darcy turned curious eyes back to Natasha. “Will they know what **I** am?”

Natasha shrugged. “Not immediately.” She smiled a small, tight smile. “Do you want them to know what you are? Because they **will** know that you're different.”

Darcy’s eyes drifted back towards the main room. “I'll be fine,” she assured the other woman.

“You need any help, you call me right away,” Barwolf rumbled over the dough.

“Always,” Darcy promised and stepped through the door, smoothing her braid and tucking a loose strand in as she went.

She fixed a smile onto her face and walked over to the table, one part of her screaming with curiosity and wanting to get closer, while another, more cautious part of her was warning her to keep her distance.

She paused on the far side of the table.

“Welcome to the Sheep in Wolf's Clothing, gentlemen. What can I get you tonight?” she asked cheerily.

“Ale,” the fair-haired one said shortly, giving her a suspicious look before glowering into the fireplace.

“Please,” his companion added, nudging his friend in the ribs and offering her an apologetic smile. “I know it's late but is there anything left to eat?”

“There's stew in the pot out back,” she replied, “and we've still got some bread to go with it if you'd like.”

“That would be perfect. Thank you,” he said, still smiling.

“I'll go get that for you right away.”

Darcy swivelled on her heel, braid swinging over her shoulder, and headed back to the bar.

“They want the food, Wolf,” she called through the door before serving the tankards of ale first. The blonde was still glowering but the dark haired one thanked her politely and his smile sent a tingle of warmth shooting down her spine.

As she strode purposely back to the kitchen she couldn't help glancing over her shoulder as she pushed through the door, only to catch the fair-headed man watching her with that same indecipherable expression on his face.

~☆~

Steve watched the barmaid disappear through the door and took a long draught from his tankard.

“You smell that?” he asked, nostrils flaring to catch the last wisp of lingering scent. He kept his voice low to avoid being overheard, even though there was no-one near them.

“Steve, all I can smell lately is us,” his companion replied.

Steve shook his head. “Not us. Her. The barmaid.”

“Oh. That,” the other man said wearily. “It's just vampire. And dog.” He sniffed heartily. “And sausage,” he sighed longingly.

Steve shook his head again. “It's not dog, Bucky. It's something else. Something...elusive.”

“You're paranoid, Steve.”

Steve leaned forward and whispered furiously, “She sniffed after us, Bucky. When we passed by the bar, she-”

He cut off as the door to the kitchen swung open and the barmaid reappeared, carrying a heavily laden tray. She was followed by a large brown and grey sheepdog that padded over to the fireplace behind their table, circled on the spot a few times, and settled down to have a nap.

The two men exchanged a glance.

“Here you go, fellas,” the barmaid announced, placing large bowls of thick stew in front them. “There's still a bit more left if you need it,” she added as she whirled away to clear a recently vacated table.

“Told you it was dog,” Bucky murmured more than a little smugly, and shoveled stew into his mouth.

They ate quickly and without conversation, both men alert to the comings and goings of the other patrons. At this hour of the night there were more goings than comings and by the time they finished eating they were the only people left.

A second barmaid was busily cleaning the empty tables, stacking the chairs neatly before she moved on to the next one. Bucky had recognised her the moment she'd pushed through the kitchen door, but the glare she'd sent in his direction had kept his ass glued to his seat. She wasn't a creature he wanted to cross.

When the first barmaid came back to clear their empty bowls, Bucky shot Steve a look that said ‘leave the talking to me from now on,’ and asked if there were any rooms available for the night. They were both sick of sleeping on the side of the road and agreed that it would be worth the coin for a night of comfort.

“There's just the one room left,” she replied, “and I have to warn you - there’s only the one bed in it. It's the biggest we've got though, so it'll fit you both without any problems at all. We’ll just charge you regular for it, seeing as there’s no other choice.”

Steve scowled at her. “What's it to you whether we both fit in one bed or not?”

The woman stared at him for a moment, mouth slightly open in shock before she recovered herself.

“I **don't** actually care,” she snapped, “but it's a damn sight more comfortable than the floor. It's a special room and sometimes people tend to get upset and complain if I don't warn them about the bed situation in that room.”

“We'll take it,” Bucky cut in before Steve could cause any more trouble. “Steve's welcome to the floor.”

The barmaid smiled sweetly at Bucky, and pulled an ornate key out of her apron pocket.

“Top of the second landing,” she said, placing the key on the table in front of Bucky, “last door on the left. I’ll bring you up some hot water for washing, and breakfast is served from dawn.”

She nodded at them both politely before disappearing through the door again.

“What the hell was that all about?” Bucky hissed at Steve as they gathered their things. “She was just doin’ her job, and you had to get all twitchy at her! We’re lucky she didn’t throw us out in the cold.”

Steve shrugged. “Sorry, Buck. I guess the vampire’s got me a little on edge.”

“We’re not at home anymore. She's not going to bother us - didn’t you see her black ribbon? Now get off the damn edge before you cause a bigger problem than a snarky barmaid,” Bucky grumbled. He picked up the key from the table and examined it. “This is one fancy key, Steve. I can’t wait to see what kind of a room we’ve got for ourselves tonight.”

~☆~

Darcy kept a close eye on the two men right up until they disappeared up the stairs. Once she was satisfied that they were gone - and out of earshot - she turned to the animal pretending to sleep in the corner.

“Okay, Oscar. They’re gone for now, thank you.”

The dog rose to its feet and padded towards the back door, pausing only long enough to butt at her hand for a pat as he went past. “I’ll be about half an hour if you still want to wait for me,” she added. “Just gotta lock up and finish the sweeping.”

It was with a weary sigh of relief that she bolted the doors and dropped the bar into its slot.

“You can go home now, Darcy,” Wolf said as he came out of the kitchen. “I’ll finish up.”

“Are you sure? I haven't swept the floors yet, and I was going to take a bucket of hot water up for our pair of barbarians.”

“I’ve swept a floor before and I'll take the bucket up. Off you go - Oscar’s waiting out back for you and it’s only getting colder.”

“Thank you, Uncle Wolf. I’ll see you in the morning.”

~☆~

Bucky opened the door to their room and promptly burst into laughter.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Steve grumbled as he followed him inside. “Oh, by all the gods.”

The whole room was white, with gauzy white lace curtains surrounding the bed, which was - as promised - plenty big enough for the two of them and probably at least two more besides. Maybe even more.

“It's a damn marriage bed,” Bucky crowed in delight. “They've got a whole room just for newly wedded folks!”

“Don't you go getting any ideas,” Steve warned, but the tension had left his voice and he sounded more relaxed than he had been. “I'm too tired for any of your shenanigans tonight.”

“Don't worry. The only idea I'm having right now is to get vaguely clean. And to sleep.”

He dumped his pack on the floor, unbuckled his sword belt, and started to strip. He was down to his underclothes when a knock came at the door. Steve was still in trousers and tunic, and gratefully accepted the soap, towels, and bucket of hot water from the man who introduced himself as the tavern owner.

Bucky sighed blissfully as he washed himself. While neither of them were huge fans of baths and would often avoid them for days - no, weeks - on end, they loved the results and it had been a long time since they'd been truly clean.

“You know, I think we should stay here for a day or two,” he said, perched on the edge of the huge bed as he pulled on his last clean pair of underthings. “Get properly clean. Rest up a bit. See the sights.”

“I don't know,” Steve said, pausing in the middle of wiping over his chest with a cloth, doubt colouring his voice. “It’ll be full moon tomorrow night. And I still think there’s something odd about that barmaid. She smells wrong. And before you say anything, it wasn’t just dog.”

Bucky sighed. “And if it wasn’t just dog, why does it matter? We won’t be staying here forever.”

“I just- I just have this feeling,” Steve admitted. He rinsed the cloth out in the last of the clean water, passed it over his face and then dropped it into the bucket. He turned to face Bucky who was rummaging around in his pack, pulling out an undershirt.

“You’ve always got a feeling. And I liked the barmaid. She didn’t take your bullshit.” Bucky stood up, dragging the shirt over his head before laying a kiss on Steve's cheek.

“You didn’t get close enough to smell her like I did,” Steve retorted. “Get a proper whiff and then tell me it was just the dog.”

Bucky sat heavily on the bed and looked up at his partner. “Okay. I can do that. I can get as close to her as you want, Steve.” He grinned suggestively.

“You’re incorrigible,” Steve sighed. “Just close enough to smell her properly will do.”

Bucky lay back on the bed and stretched. What could it hurt to placate his mate **and** spend some time with a pretty girl? He smiled up at Steve. “Whatever you say, love. And then we relax for a few days.”

“I thought it was just one or two days?” Steve grinned.

“Shut up and come here,” Bucky growled.


	2. Cheese Rolling and Sheepdog Trials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky set out to find out more about Darcy, as well as learn about cheese rolling and sheepdog trials.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, you'll notice that the chapter count has gone up, because after reading all of your lovely comments (which I WILL be responding to soon, I promise) I decided that I needed to put more of the info from my head into the story! So here is the second chapter, and there will be a third (and hopefully final) chapter once I've finished the FYDL Summer Challenge in another week or so.
> 
> Some of your guesses were really good - yes, this is a Discworld au! I haven't actually given it a definitive DW location but it's somewhere between Uberwald and Lancre. Only one person came close to guessing Darcy's secret, which Bucky figures out at the end of this chapter, although he still won't know the details :-)
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> Secondly, I forgot to acknowledge my beta for this story, the fabulous HKThauer.

Chapter Two -  Cheese Rolling and Sheepdog Trials

 

* * *

 

 It was well after dawn when they went down to breakfast the next morning and they were mildly surprised to find the tavern full to overflowing.

“What in hells is going on,” Bucky wondered softly to Steve.

The barmaid was so busy serving tea and coffee to the early morning crowds that Bucky had been sitting in front her for more than a full minute before she noticed him. Between the width of the bar between them and the crowds buffeting him on all sides, he was hard pressed to smell anything other than fresh hot bread, bacon, sausage, people, and coffee, although he did catch a whiff of vampire when the redheaded barmaid passed behind him with a tray piled high with pastries. He watched her curiously for a moment, wondering how she’d ended up here before turning his attention back to his target who’d finally stopped in front of him.

“Morning, lass. Is it always this busy here?” he asked her, turning on the charm and flashing her a winning smile. It hadn’t failed him yet.

“Not usually,” she told him, throwing him the briefest of glances as she refilled the tea urn, “but the Harvest Festival finishes today with the finals of the sheepdog trials, along with the cheese rolling, and there'll be dancing tonight as well.”

“Cheese rolling?”

A small smirk flickered across her face at the tone of confusion in his voice. “It has to be seen to be truly appreciated,” she said, pouring two cups of tea and pushing them towards him. She looked up at him at last. He hadn't noticed how blue her eyes were in the gloom last night and suddenly she was the best thing he'd seen all day. Hell, all month if he was going to get picky. The journey over the mountains had been a long one.

“It does, huh? Hey, Steve!” He turned to Steve who was hovering behind him. “You wanna watch the cheese rolling at the local fair today?”

“I thought we had somewhere to be?” Steve replied, barely giving the woman a glance as he maintained his vaguely antagonistic coolness from the previous night.

“Another day won't make any difference,” Bucky replied. He looked back at the barmaid, the brilliant smile still on his face. “That is, if we can have the room for another night, of course.”

To his delight she finally smiled at him properly, and he caught his breath a little as her whole face lit up. “You can,” she assured him. “Although I can find you a different one if you like. Smaller. With less white lace.” He was 99% positive that she was laughing at him now.

“I like that room,” he said, winking at her. “It's got a big bed. Me and Steve had plenty of room. More than enough. You could fit half a dozen people in that bed.”

“Not if they're all as big as you,“ Darcy said, and then she flushed, the tiniest hint of rosy tint spreading over her cheeks. Something fluttered in Bucky's chest and he found himself hoping that his charm could overcome Steve's bad first impression.

He leaned a little closer to her and let his smile smoulder a little. “Four, then. Or even just three. Me, Steve. Maybe a lass about your size.”

She blushed harder, even as she narrowed her eyes at him, and as she opened her mouth to deliver what Bucky suddenly had no doubt was going to be a scathing rejection, he knew he'd tried too hard.

“Bucky, that's enough.” Steve put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” It was Steve's turn to switch on the charm now. “I’m very sorry for Bucky’s rudeness, ma'am. He never did have any manners.”

The barmaid stared at Steve suspiciously. Bucky held his breath, wondering if the abrupt change of attitude the blonde was displaying was too much.

“My name's Darcy,” she said, “and I’ve dealt with worse,” she finished, cocking an eyebrow at him pointedly. Bucky hid a relieved smile as it was Steve’s turn to flush pink.

“I’m also sorry for my own rudeness last night, Miss Darcy. We’ve been on the road a long while now, and I’m afraid I let it get the better of me.”

The suspicious look appeared on her face again, and then it was gone just as quickly.

“Apology accepted,” she replied magnanimously.

“So, will you be watching the cheese rolling then, Miss Darcy?” Bucky asked, drawing her attention away from Steve.

She shook her head as someone called out for more coffee. “I'll be here til noon,” she said, and the smell of it filled his nostrils when she turned to pass an urn to the other barmaid, “and then I’ll be at the sheepdog trials all afternoon. I have family competing.”

Bucky brought his smile back out in full force, oozing charm from every pore. “Maybe we’ll see you there then.”

“You’ll see the entire village there,” she said, a smile flitting around her mouth but not quite fully forming. “It’s the biggest event of the year.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see it then,” Bucky said, giving her his best friendly smile. “I’ll keep a lookout for you - I might need some help understanding what’s going on.” He glanced across at Steve, who was now pretending to ignore Bucky’s not-as-successful-as-he’d-hoped attempt at flirting with the lass.

“I'm sure you'll catch on quickly,” Darcy retorted mildly. “If you're hungry, I strongly suggest you go and eat before it runs out.” She nodded towards a wall behind them where two long tables had been set up, laden with food.

Bucky knew a dismissal when it was aimed in his direction.

“C’mon, Steve. Let’s go explore the buffet.”

~☆~

Steve and Bucky watched the cheese rolling in gobsmacked amazement.

“Are they doing this for fun, or as a sport?” Bucky wondered. They both winced as several of the runners fell together in a tangle of limbs and rolled after the cheese that was bouncing merrily down the hill.

“It's a mystery to me,” Steve replied, shaking his head. “You wanna go explore the fair?”

Bucky twisted to look down the hill to where several dozen market stalls were laid out in a rough U-shape, the area in the middle given over to tables and chairs for people to eat and drink, and a small stage at the open end. Further beyond the stage was another field with several areas marked out or fenced off, and lined on two sides by pens of various different animals, including cows, pigs, sheep, and goats.

“That must be where the sheepdog trials are gonna be,” Steve said, waving a lazy hand towards the field. “Do you think she's here yet?”

“Maybe?” Bucky shrugged, and Steve could see he had other things on his mind.

“Okay, Buck. What's on your mind?”

“Think they got anything good to eat down there?” Bucky asked eagerly.

“It's a harvest festival, Buck.” Steve grinned and nudged his shoulder against Bucky's. “It'll be the best they've got.”

They both turned back to the hill as a cheer went up behind them. An enormous young man with blonde hair was holding the cheese triumphantly in the air, roaring happily in spite of the blood running down his face.

“Yeah, lets go,” Bucky agreed.

They picked their way through the crowd that covered the hill, slowly making their way towards the food when another person fell into step beside them.

“I have to admit, I was surprised to see you here.”

Steve wasn't exactly surprised to see the vampire, and he didn't miss the slight inflection on ‘you’. Bucky had mentioned her after they'd gone to bed, saying that her presence in the little village was a good sign. He hadn't elaborated though and Steve was going to reserve judgement until he knew more.

“Just passing through, Natasha,” Bucky replied. “We don’t want any trouble.” Steve could see him flick a glance sideways to meet her piercing gaze as she looked at him from under the large black hat she was wearing. “I promise you, we’ve left all that behind.”

She didn’t reply straight away, just walked sedately at his side, ignoring Steve’s questioning look.

“This is a nice place,” she said as they reached the bottom of the hill. “The folks are very friendly and as you’ve probably noticed, they don’t object to people who are a bit...different. You should stay for a few days. Look around. Rest up.” She turned to face Bucky, still ignoring Steve. “You look like you could use it.”

Bucky frowned and Steve shifted on his feet. “It’s full moon tonight.”

“The room you’re in at the tavern is fully lockable, no questions asked,” Natasha told them, “and if you want to go out, head that way.” She tilted her head towards a tall mountain rising in the distance. “Once you cross the river, it’s safe as far as you can run.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Steve asked.

Natasha smiled slowly as she finally looked at him properly and he felt a shiver go down his back.

“What? I can’t help an old friend out?”

“An old friend, huh?” The doubt dripped from Steve’s voice.

“Yes. Well, maybe a new friend.”

“As an old friend,” Bucky interjected smoothly, “are there any other people like us here? Are we interloping if we stay?”

Steve mentally slapped himself as Natasha’s smile relaxed into something a little friendlier.

“There was a werewolf living here but he died some time ago. There's no one like you here now.”

Steve relaxed until Bucky said “What about like Steve?”

She looked at Steve and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“My father was human,” Steve said reluctantly.

“I have nothing against half breeds,” she assured him. “One of my closest friends is a half breed.”

“Not everyone feels that way,” Steve replied, trying hard not to let his usual defensive tone creep into his voice.

“Like I said before, you've nothing to worry about here.”

She took a step away. “I’ll see you later,” she said. “Oh, by the way - if you do decide to go out tonight? You won’t be alone.”

Steve and Bucky stared at her as she disappeared into the crowd.

“Did that make any sense to you?” Steve asked, but before Bucky could reply, they spotted the barmaid a little way away, hugging the tall blonde man who’d won the cheese in the last race. He was beaming with pride, still clutching the cheese tightly in one hand as he returned Darcy’s embrace. Releasing him, she turned to a woman wearing the distinctive pointy black hat of a witch who was standing to one side of the cheese champion and hugged her tightly as well.

“Is that...is that a witch?” Steve asked. “I didn’t think there were any witches this side of the mountains.”

“Witches are everywhere these days, Steve,” Bucky said. “It's a good thing.” He drew a deep breath and looked around again.

Steve knew exactly what Bucky was seeing because he was seeing it as well.

Everywhere he looked he could see people talking, smiling, laughing. No one looked afraid or fearful. No one glanced around furtively as if wondering which of their ‘friends’ was a spy. And they hadn't heard the word ‘abomination’ once - just seen a lone priest in a wide brimmed black hat handing out pamphlets.

“We could've used a witch back home,” Bucky said softly.

“Witches make me nervous,” Steve replied and a chuckle escaped Bucky's throat.

“That's cos they're smarter than you,” he grinned.

His gaze drifted back to Darcy and they both watched silently as she talked animatedly with her two friends.

It wasn't until a pair of large dogs bounded up the hill and playfully bumped into her that Darcy finally noticed them. She waved, spoke what they assumed was a farewell to her friends, then made her way towards them, the dogs on either side of her.

She’d changed into a less practical dress and a light summer cloak. Although her hair was still braided, enough strands had come loose to dance gently in the slight breeze, which was unfortunately blowing the wrong way for either of them to get even a hint of her scent.

“So, how did you like the cheese rolling?” she called out as she approached.

“Like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Steve replied, trying his hardest to project harmless friendliness, “but it was definitely entertaining.”

“Did you get to see any of it?” Bucky asked as she fell into step beside them, the two dogs playfully trotting around them.

“The last one,” Darcy said. “It was the only one I wanted to see anyway. Have you eaten yet?” she finished.

“No. We were just on our way, actually,” Steve replied. “Would you like to join us?”

He couldn’t quite tell if the flush in her cheeks was from the invitation or the wind that was gusting cheerfully around them, carrying the homely scents of smoke, sausage, and cinnamon-laced fruit buns with it, but her smile lit up her face and both he and Bucky responded in kind.

“Sure. I’ll show you all the best stuff.”

They spent a solid hour or more exploring the market fair, eating, drinking, and even buying a few trinkets. Darcy’s dogs rarely left her side, although the one that had been with her in the tavern the previous night - Oscar - pressed right up next to Bucky while they were eating and begged him for tidbits the entire time, ignoring Darcy when she scolded him. The other one - Duchess - made friends with Steve, resting her chin on his knee until he gave in and fed her an entire sausage, one bite at a time.

After they finished sampling the food stalls they followed Darcy to the field where the sheepdog trials had already started.

“So you said you've got family in these trials?” Steve asked, settling onto one of the hay bales that had been scattered around for seating. Duchess immediately sat next to him, head straight on his knee again.

Darcy nodded vigorously. “Two brothers and a sister.” She squinted up at where the list of dogs and trainers was written on a large blackboard. “Competitors five, seventeen, and twenty three.”

“Number five’s up next,” Steve observed, one hand settling onto Duchess’ head who was so close to him she was almost in his lap.

“Perfect timing.” Darcy bestowed him with another dazzling smile before turning her attention to the field.

A tall skinny man entered the field behind a huge brown and white sheepdog. The whistle blew, the sheep were released, and the trial started.

Steve watched in rapt fascination as the dog skillfully guided the sheep through the course and into the pen at one side of the field. Darcy kept up a running commentary for them, explaining the different elements, requirements, and skills the dogs and handlers had to demonstrate. She also explained that there were three different championships for the dogs, as well as an overall Grand Champion and a prize for the best handler.

There was enthusiastic applause as the gate closed behind the last sheep and Steve hastily joined in. As far as he could tell the run had been perfect, and when the score went up it was the highest score on the board.

As the dog and trainer came back past, Darcy leapt out of her seat to greet them both, hugging the man tightly and praising the dog enthusiastically, ruffling its fur until it stuck out in all directions and then smoothing it back down again. Steve couldn't look away as she continued petting the dog, his thoughts idly wondering what it would feel like to feel Darcy’s hands sink into his own fur; to feel her hands rub his head and chest and belly. The urge to change was strong and when he looked over at Bucky, the look on his face echoed what Steve was feeling.

Then Duchess butted his hand imperiously and stuck her head into his crotch, and the spell was broken.

The next competitor entered the field and Steve watched with avid concentration as he tried to figure out what made the last dog different from this one. As the trials continued people came and went, many of them stopping to greet Darcy. The afternoon wore on and soon number seventeen was being announced.

The dog that entered this time was black, with a white head and chest. It was followed by a short stocky man whose brown hair was only a little lighter than Darcy’s.

It was a perfect run right up until one of the sheep made a break for it. The dog chased it down and recovered it quickly but any advantage it had was now lost.

By the time number twenty was up Steve was starting to feel some doubt. They'd been sitting here for half the afternoon and he hadn't smelt anything other than dog, sheep, bread, sausage, or smoke the whole time. There hadn't been even the slightest hint of that other elusive scent and he was beginning to think that maybe he **had** imagined it and Bucky had been right all along. Darcy was funny and smart and beautiful, and he was captivated by her as he hadn't been for a very long time but...he was still wondering what to do when they were joined by the witch and her big blonde companion, who was still clutching his cheese.

~☆~

As the twenty third sheepdog was preparing for its run Bucky was coming to the realisation that he was hungry again as the odours of smoke, bread, and sausage wafted past him for the umpteenth time.

He now sitting next to Steve, who had swapped places with Darcy when her witch friend had joined them some time ago. Darcy had introduced her as her best friend Jane, who was an astro witch - she specialised in astronomical witchcraft.

Bucky hadn't realised witches could have specialties.

He was surreptitiously looking around for the source of the sausages when Steve elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

“What?” he asked.

“Pay attention, Buck,” Steve hissed. “This is the last one.”

Bucky turned his attention back to the field and watched as the red dog on the field guided and herded the sheep in the single best performance they'd seen all day. When the gate closed on the last sheep, the entire crowd cheered and applauded.

Darcy was clapping and cheering more loudly than anyone else and Bucky felt a grin spread across his own face. A quick glance at Steve showed that he was gazing raptly at Darcy, with a smile that could only be described as goofy spread across his face. How things could change in the course of a single afternoon.

And then he heard what Darcy and Jane were chanting.

“She did it! She did it! She won! She won!”

The smile dropped from his face as he looked back at the dog and its handler.

Its male handler.

He frowned. Hadn't Darcy said she had two brothers and a sister in the trials? But...all three handlers had been male.

He looked back at Darcy, who just happened to be looking right at him with the most beautiful smile, and then he looked down at Oscar and Duchess who were both curled up between Steve and Darcy.

Suddenly he could see what he'd been missing this whole time.

**Author's Note:**

> points and virtual chocolate to anyone who a) guesses Darcy's secret, and b) guesses where this au is set :-)
> 
> My Tumblr, if you're interested, is  
> [ibelieveinturtles](http://ibelieveinturtles.tumblr.com/)


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